


Halfway Point

by Nuwandalz



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Coercion, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-07
Updated: 2010-03-07
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:45:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4176918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuwandalz/pseuds/Nuwandalz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is with Hesam. Sylar finds out and is very, very jealous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halfway Point

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fill for a [Petlar kink meme prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/sylar_peter/217306.html?thread=475610#t475610). UnBeta'd.

It’d been a long time since Parkman had trapped him in his head, but the old urge to reach out to Peter and make sure he was still around lingered in the back of his head. He waited around the hospital, hair combed back, glasses on...

He felt like an idiot but he got a lot less stares from people, gazes on him that were tinged with ‘I know you from somewhere’ made his skin crawl. Just because he’d decided to change and follow Peter’s lead didn’t mean that the world forgot his face. He’d been lucky so far, considering.

Peter came into view, _friend_ in tow. They were bantering, mouths moving in silent words followed by laughter from Peter and his friend shaking his head in amusement. Sylar frowned, recognizing with the usual pang that he never made Peter look like that, never brought a laugh out of the man with such perfect ease. His hands flexed with the urge to _hurt_ but then Peter looked up, straight at him and the anger faded under the half smile Peter sent his way. 

He waited patiently while Peter and his friend disappeared from view, obviously having gone to head to their lockers. Restraining the urge to pace, Sylar counted in his head.

“Hey,” Peter greeted, casually walking up. No hurry, no rush – Sylar wasn’t someone Peter looked forward to seeing. Sylar quirked his head instead of a reply and followed Peter outside.

“I could feel you glaring daggers at Hesam,” Peter mused, looking out over the road, searching for a cab. 

“I could kill him with a thought,” Sylar pointed out, frowning. Peter shot him a bemused look.

“Yeah? He isn’t special, it would be a wasted kill,” Peter reasoned. He’d recognized the empty threat.

“He’s normal,” Sylar said quietly, sounding disgusted. 

“Yup,” Peter replied, popping the ‘p’. “That really annoys you doesn’t it?”  
Finally hailing a cab, Peter slid into the back, rattling off his address as Sylar climbed in after. 

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Sylar grumbled. “He doesn’t understand you.”

“Like _you_ do?” Peter scoffed. “He doesn’t need to understand. He—never mind. You wouldn’t get it.”

Sylar pulled his glasses away, running a hand to mess through his hair. It was true enough; Sylar didn’t understand why anyone like Peter, a potential god amongst men would want to settle for some, pathetic normal person.

“He’ll die,” Sylar pointed out, cheered by the thought. “He’ll grow old and you won’t.”

Peter shrugged, unconcerned. “Maybe I’ll stop taking the healing and grow old with him.”

They took the rest of the ride in silence, Sylar unsettled by Peter’s words. He followed Peter up to the apartment, feeling hurt but not quite sure why. He didn’t _need_ Peter, even if there was a panicky feeling that would run through him when separated from Peter for long periods of time. He just wanted Peter, enjoyed the symbolism that they stood for. Peter wasn’t filled with such imagery; he just wanted someone to come home to.

They ate dinner quietly, Peter having apparently used up his conversational quota with Hesam and Sylar feeling too annoyed to bother with small talk. The annoyance grew into heated anger as the night went on, a growing urge to rip up the town settling in him. 

He grabbed a jacket, the only sign to Peter that he’d plan on leaving before he headed for the door.

“Don’t kill anyone,” Peter called after him mildly, not even looking up from his papers. Sylar snarled, leaving the apartment. He headed to the hospital, knowing that Hesam would still be there, finishing off his longer shift. He’d taken enough memories from Peter to calmly walk his way into the hospital, acting as if he knew where he was going. It didn’t take long for him to find Hesam, shoving his outer uniform into his locker. He stayed out of sight, just watching, trying to work out what it was about this man that caught Peter’s attention. 

There wasn’t anything special about him. Hesam seemed cranky, sarcastic, mainlined coffee and didn’t possess any ability that would make him seem worthwhile. Sylar frowned, disappointed.  
Hesam passed through the hospitals halls casually, nodding and waving to people as they bid him a good night. He chatted up one of the nurses near the door before he jogged outside and then started to walk purposefully. Sylar stalked him all the way home, minutely impressed that Hesam managed  
such a lengthy walk to and from home with ease.

He loitered at the apartment complex, using his telekinesis to stop the door from completely closing and snuck his way silently up to the level Hesam was headed. “Door’s open,” Hesam called over his shoulder, making Sylar freeze on the staircase. Foregoing being stealthy, Sylar made his way to Hesam’s apartment, looking about at the open door and stepping inside warily.  
Hesam’s apartment barely looked lived in, to the point where boxes were still shoved into the corners.

“You knew I was following you,” Sylar commented, feeling out of depth. Hesam looked up from his main table, telephone cradled between his shoulder and ear as he listened to someone on the other line. He hummed a few times, answering before he hung the phone up and turned to Sylar.

“I knew you were coming,” Hesam corrected. “Peter told me.”

Sylar squinted in thought, realizing that Peter hadn’t had the ability to see the future for a while.

“What else did he tell you?” Sylar asked, half tempted to throw a power around to knock Hesam’s confidence away.

“That we’d have sex, or something like that. I wasn’t really listening at the time,” Hesam replied with ease. He grinned at Sylar.

“I don’t remember saying that,” Peter said, entering through the door and closing it behind him. Sylar hid his surprised start.

“You did say Sylar was jealous of me,” Hesam said, walking away to his bedroom. Sylar stood there, confused, until Peter placed a hand on his shoulder and jerked his head towards the room. 

He followed, uncertain and uncomfortable, not knowing what was happening. 

“I hear it’s been almost three months since you last killed, Sylar,” Hesam said, stripping off his work shirt. “Congrats.”

Sylar blinked, watching Hesam casually undress himself before the two of them. His skin was dark, shadowy in the already dark room. Peter walked over to the joined bathroom, flipping on the light and closing the door halfway to light the bedroom a little. Sylar noted that there wasn’t any bedside tables, no lamps or anything other than a bed.

“I know most of what’s been happening,” Hesam said, nodding at Sylar’s confused face. “Peter’s been pretty upfront with me since that carnival ‘hoax’.”  
Hesam’s hand dropped to his belt, slowly starting to undo it. “Hear you two are black and white, that you can’t meet halfway so, I’m volunteering to be that grey area – your halfway point.” He worked to get his belt loose and undid the top of his pants before he sat down on the bed, relaxed. “Up to you of course.”

Sylar didn’t understand – Hesam was proposing to be the glue for his relationship with Peter. He knew or at least, suspected Hesam and Peter’s friendship had been more but he didn’t consider to this point. His own relationship with Peter had been made of ideals, of a need to connect to someone who was like him.

“I need him,” Peter said quietly, stepping in. He moved close to Sylar. “What we have Sylar, it’s not enough I can’t... we’re too opposite. Even without Lydia’s ability I know what you want but I can’t do that and I’m sorry. But with Hesam, maybe I can.”

Sylar glared over at Hesam who just stared back calmly.  
“He can’t be anything, he’s _nothing_.”

Peter sent a pleading look to Hesam, almost as if to say ‘see? I told you’. Sylar seethed, already hating that Peter and Hesam’s relationship drowned out his own with Peter.

Hesam pushed himself off the bed and came to kneel in front of Sylar. He moved slowly, telegraphing his movements as he worked to get Sylar’s pants open.

Sylar shoved at Hesam harshly, sending him back against the floor with telekinesis. Hesam quirked an eyebrow at him, calmly picking himself up off the ground and returning to kneel in front of Sylar.

“You like him because he follows orders?” Sylar snapped, shooting a glance to Peter. Peter frowned but didn’t say anything, just continued to stand there with his arms folded. 

“He likes me because I look cute when he uses his abilities on me during sex,” Hesam commented, looking up at Sylar. He reached up, pushing Sylar’s shirt up before leaning close and kissing the exposed skin.

Sylar held his breath. It was _gentle_. All the times he’d been with  
Peter it had been frantic, needy, loveless. As Hesam trailed kisses over his skin he was surprised to find that there was nothing like that coming from Hesam, just easy, giving, gentleness. He felt Peter walk up behind him, running a hand down his back, then helping Hesam work Sylar’s pants down.  
Hesam took Sylar’s cock into his mouth without a thought, sucking lightly around the head before taking more of the length into his mouth. Peter shifted, taking Sylar’s shirt off for him while Hesam worked his cock. Sylar whimpered as he felt Hesam’s knuckles stroke across his balls, saw Peter reach down to stroke a hand through Hesam’s hair, petting him. 

Sylar watched, transfixed as Hesam bobbed up and down on his dick, sucking and slurping, tongue flicking against him. He groaned, almost stumbling as Hesam began to work faster, goal in mind. Peter grabbed for Sylar harshly, fingers pulling strands of hair painfully as Peter pushed them into a rough kiss. He kissed back, frantic, tasting and smelling Peter and aching for something more. 

A hand shot out to grab at Peter, clenching onto Peter’s arm painfully as Hesam took him deeper. The wet noises curled around his ears, made him buck a little and hear a muffled choke that sent a stab of pleasure through his gut.  
He moaned into Peter’s mouth, let his free hand fall to Hesam’s head, urging him forward. His fingers tangled with Peter’s, the touch surprising him enough to open his eyes. Peter pulled back, a half smile turning up his face and Sylar realized he was starting to understand why a third person in their jagged relationship might help.

A hand on Peter and the other on Hesam, Sylar clutched onto them both as Hesam dragged out his orgasm, a drawn out moan being swallowed by Peter’s mouth. His legs tingled, body feeling shaky as Hesam pulled off him, sitting back on his heels and running a hand over his mouth. Peter drew away from Sylar, holding out his hands to Hesam to help pull him to his feet.  
Hesam chuckled, taking Peter’s hand and hoisting himself up before he kissed Peter. 

“Still jealous?” Hesam asked Sylar, voice rough. Peter looked between the two, nervous.

Sylar stepped into Hesam’s space, a hand on Hesam’s chest pushing him back towards the bed. He flicked blue electricity over his hand and couldn’t help but smirk at Hesam’s expression.

“Don’t hurt him,” Peter warned, climbing onto the bed beside Hesam.

“Keep him quiet and distracted and I won’t,” Sylar returned, voice low. 

Peter flashed him a smile, almost the same easy carefree smile he showed to Hesam. The look directed at _him_ made him double-take, a strange warmth flooding through him.

Peter smirked, noticing Sylar’s surprise, then turned his attention to Hesam.  
“You sure about this?”

Hesam looked up at Sylar. “We all win this way, right?” he answered Peter without turning.

Peter looked at Sylar too, reaching out a hand. Sylar took it, perplexed as the electricity flexed around Peter’s skin. 

They’d have to figure this out a bit later but for now, he was curious to see how this would play out.


End file.
